The Novels of Nora Roberts Volume 1

by Nora Roberts

  If things went well, mother would clean baby up. If not, that task would also fall to Billy. In any case, she had trained him carefully over the past few weeks, with a hypo and an orange, until she was confident that he could inject the newborns with the necessary medication.

  “I’m going on to the next one,” she told him as she wiped an arm over her sweaty forehead. “Ham?”

  “Coming along.” He watched eagle-eyed as Jim pulled another calf.

  It was always a worry that even with human assistance a calf would prove too large, or be turned wrong, and make the birthing process lethal for both baby and mother. Willa still remembered the first time she’d lost this battle, the blood and the pain and the helplessness. The vet could be called, if they knew in time. But for the most part, the calf-pulling season of February and March was the province of the cattleman.

  Steroids and growth hormones, she thought as she examined the next laboring cow. The price per pound had seduced ranchers into producing bigger calves, turning what should have been a natural process into an unnatural one that required human hands and muscle.

  Well, she would be cutting back on that, she thought as she sucked in a breath and plunged her cramping hands into the cow. And they would see. If her attempt to return to more natural ranching proved a failure in the long run, she would have only herself to blame.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, coffee is served.” Tess’s entrance was spoiled when she went white and gagged. The air in the pole barn was thick with the mingling smells of sweat and blood and soiled straw. Visions of a slaughterhouse danced in her head as she turned straight around and gulped in the icy air.

  “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” No good deed goes unpunished, she thought, and waited for the dizziness to pass.

  Bess had known, certainly Bess had known exactly what she would walk in on when she’d casually asked Tess to take the thermoses of coffee out to the pole barn. With a shudder Tess made herself turn back around.

  That little deed would require punishment as well, she decided. Later.

  “Coffee,” she repeated, staring, fascinated despite herself as Willa wrenched a calf partially out of a cow’s vagina. “How can you do that?”

  “Upper-body strength,” Will said easily. “Go ahead and pour some.” She spared her sister an arch look. “My hands are full.”

  “Yeah.” Tess wrinkled her nose as the calf squirted out. It wasn’t a pretty sight, she mused. At one time she would have said that no birth could be. But the horses . . . she’d been charmed and humbled by the sight of a foaling mare.

  But this was nasty, she thought, and messy and almost assembly-line cold. Pull ’em out, clean ’em up. Maybe it was because they were destined to be steaks on a platter, she considered. Then she shook her head and handed a cup of coffee to Billy. Or maybe she just didn’t like cows.

  They were, in her opinion, too big, too homely, and too desperately uninteresting.

  “Wouldn’t mind a cup of that,” Jim said, and his eyes twinkled at her. “We could switch places a minute. It’s not as hard as it looks.”

  “I’ll pass, thanks.” And she smiled back at him, giving him a steaming cup so he could take a breather. It no longer insulted her to be considered an ignorant greenhorn. In fact, at the moment Tess thought it was a distinct advantage.

  “How come they can’t just push the calves out themselves?” she asked him.

  “Too big.” Grateful, he gulped down the coffee. Even the burning of his tongue was welcome.

  “Well, horses have pretty big foals, and when we’re in the foaling stall we mostly just stand by and watch.”

  “Too big,” he reiterated. “With the growth hormones we give them, cows can’t throw off calves by themselves. So we pull ’em.”

  “But what if it happens when nobody’s around to . . . pull?”

  “Bad luck.” He handed back an empty cup. She didn’t want to think about what was smeared on the outside.

  “Bad luck,” she repeated. Because that didn’t bear thinking about either, she left the thermoses and cups and went outside again.

  “Your sister’s all right, Will.”

  Willa shot a half smile at Jim and took a moment to pour herself coffee. “She’s not all bad.”

  “Wanted to puke when she walked in,” he pointed out. “I figured she’d haul ass back to the house, but she didn’t.”

  “Maybe she could help out in here.” Billy grinned. “I can’t see her sticking her hands in a cow’s hole, but she might could use a needle.”

  Willa rolled her shoulders. “I think we’ll leave her to play with the chickens. For now, anyway.” And now was what mattered, she decided, as she watched a newborn calf begin to nurse for the first time.

  “A ND SHE WAS UP TO HER ELBOWS INSIDE A COW.” TESS shuddered over her brandy. Evening had come in cold and clear, there was a fire roaring in the grate, and Nate had come to dinner. The combination made her brave enough to recount the experience. “Inside, dragging out another cow.”

  “I thought it was fascinating.” Lily enjoyed her tea, and the warmth of Adam’s hand over hers. “I’d have stayed longer, but I was in the way.”

  “You could have stayed.” Willa had a combo of coffee laced with brandy. “We’d have put you to work.”

  “Really?” Though Tess moaned at Lily’s simple enthusiasm, Lily just smiled. “I’d love to help tomorrow.”

  “You haven’t got enough brawn to pull, but you could medicate. Now you,” Willa continued, giving Tess a long, considering look, “you’re a big, strapping woman. Bet you could pull a calf without losing your breath.”

  “Just her lunch,” Nate put in, and earned chuckles from everyone but Tess.

  “I could handle it.” Gracefully, she skimmed back her hair, making the rings glitter on her pretty manicured fingers. “If I wanted to handle it.”

  “Twenty says you’d chicken before you were in to the wrists.”

  Damn it, Tess realized. Cornered. “Make it fifty, and you’re on.”

  “Done. Tomorrow. And Mercy Ranch adds another ten for every calf you pull.”

  “Ten.” Tess sniffed. “Big deal.”

  “Pull enough and you’d be able to pay for your next fancy haircut in Billings.”

  Tess flipped her hair again. She was about due for another trim. “All right, then. I say you’re going to be springing for a facial as well.” She raised an eyebrow. “You could use one of those yourself. And a paraffin wax on those hands. Unless, of course, you like skin that resembles leather.”

  “I don’t have time to waste in some silly salon.”

  Tess swirled her brandy. “Chicken.” She hurried on before Willa could hiss out a response. “I say I’ll pull as many as you, and if so, Mercy Ranch treats all three of us—you, me, and Lily—to the works. A weekend at a spa in Big Sky. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Lily?”

  Torn between loyalties, Lily fumbled. “Well, I—”

  “And we could do some shopping for the wedding. Check out a couple shops Shelly talked about.”

  “Oh.” The thrill of that had her looking dreamily at Adam. “That would be lovely.”

  “Bitch,” Willa murmured at Tess without rancor. “You’re on. But if you lose, you’re back on laundry detail.”

  “Oops.” Nate took the coward’s way out and studied his brandy when Tess snarled at him.

  “Meanwhile, I’ve got to finish recording the birth information from today.” Willa rose, stretched. Then froze. Had that been a shadow at the window? Or a face? Slowly she lowered her arms, struggled to keep her features composed. “I wouldn’t stay up too late,” she said to Tess as she started out of the room. “You’re going to need your strength tomorrow.”

  “I’m really going to love hearing you scream during your bikini wax,” Tess called out, and had the satisfaction of seeing Willa’s head jerk around and her face register sheer horror. “I love having the last word,” she murmured.

  “Excuse me a minute.” Adam rose an
d followed Willa. He found her in the library, loading a rifle. “What is it?”

  So much for the poker face, she thought, snapping the chamber closed. “I thought I saw something outside.”

  “So you’re going out alone.” As he spoke he chose a shotgun, loaded it.

  “No use spooking everyone. It might have been my imagination.”

  “You don’t have a well-developed imagination.”

  She shook her head at that and decided it was hard to be insulted by the truth. “Well, it won’t hurt to do a quick walk around. We’ll go out the back.”

  They bundled into their outdoor gear in the mudroom. Though it was Willa’s instinct to go out first, Adam beat her to it, gently easing her aside.

  S OMEONE WATCHED THEM. IT WAS COLD, AND BITTER, BUT Jesse stood in the shadows, watching while his hand flexed eagerly on the weapon he carried. He dreamed of using it, on the man, taking out the man, leaving him bleeding.

  And just taking the woman, dragging her away, using her until he was done with her. Then killing her, of course. What other choice would he have?

  He wondered if he dared risk it, here, now. They were armed, and he’d seen how many people were in the house. He’d seen exactly. He’d seen Lily laughing, cozying up to that half-breed.

  Maybe it was best to wait—wait, and watch for the right moment. It could come anytime.

  It could come if they walked over to the pole barn. He knew what they would find there. He’d already been there.

  “A ROUND BY THE FRONT WINDOWS.” IF SHE COULDN’T lead the way, at least she could move side by side. “It was just a flash, after I stood up to go. I thought it might have been a face, someone looking in at us, but it was too dark to be sure. And it was gone fast.”

  Adam only nodded. He knew Willa too well to believe she would jump at shadows. There were prints in the snow alongside the walkway, but that was to be expected. With all the activity in the pole barn over the last couple of days, the snow on the lawn would hardly be undisturbed. There had been melt and refreezing, so the surface was brittle and gave way with a crackle under their boots.

  “Might have been one of the men,” Willa said while she studied the ground. “But it’s unlikely. They would just have knocked.”

  “Don’t see why they’d have gone through the flower beds to peek in the window either.” Adam gestured toward tracks close to the house between evergreen shrubs where flowers would bloom late in the spring.

  “So I did see something.”

  “I never doubted it.” From where he stood, Adam could see clearly through the window into the lights of the front room. He watched Lily laugh, sip her tea, then rise to offer Nate more brandy. “Someone was watching us. Or one of us.”

  Willa shifted her gaze away from the lights in the window, toward the dark. “One of us?”

  “Lily’s ex-husband, Jesse Cooke. He’s not in Virginia.”

  Instinctively Willa looked back to the window, shifted her grip on her rifle. “How do you know?”

  “Nate did some checking for me. He hasn’t shown up at his job or paid his rent since October.”

  “You think he’s come after her? How would he know where to look?”

  “I don’t know.” He moved back, away from the house. “Just speculating. That’s why I don’t see any point in bringing it up to her.”

  “I won’t say anything to her. But I think we should tell Tess. That way one of us can keep our eye out for him. And for Lily. Do we know what he looks like?”

  “No, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “All right. Meanwhile, we’d better look around. I’ll go this way, and—”

  “We’ll stick together, Will.” He laid a hand on her arm. “Two people are dead. Maybe this was just a pissed-off ex-husband wanting to get back at his wife. Or maybe it was something else. We stick together.”

  In silence they moved through the wind, circling the house. Overhead the sky was clear as glass, with diamond-chip stars wheeling and a three-quarter moon casting pale blue light on the snow at their feet. Cottonwood trees loomed and seemed to shiver under their coating of ice.

  In the frigid quiet, Willa heard the call of cattle. A mournful sound, she thought while her breath fumed out in front of her and was whisked away by the wind. Odd—such a sound had always seemed comforting to her before; now it was eerie.

  “They’re awfully stirred up for this late at night.” She looked in the direction of the pole barn, the corral beyond. “Maybe we’ve got some cows in labor. I’d better check.”

  Adam thought uncomfortably of his horses, unattended in the stables. It wasn’t easy to turn his back on them and go with Willa to the cattle.

  “Hear that?” She stopped, ears straining. “Hear that?” she repeated in a whisper.

  “No.” But he turned so they were guarding each other’s backs. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “I don’t hear it now either. It sounded like someone whistling ‘Sweet Betsy from Pike.’ ” She shook it off, tried to laugh at herself. “Just the wind, and the creeps. Hell, it has to be twenty below with the windchill. Anybody out here whistling tunes would have to be . . .”

  “Crazy?” Adam finished, and fought to see through the shadows.

  “Yeah.” Willa shivered inside her sheepskin. “Let’s go.”

  She’d intended to go straight into the pole barn, but the thick huddle of cattle at the far end of the corral drew her attention. “That’s not right,” she said half to herself. “Something’s off here.”

  She walked to the gate, shoved it open.

  At first she didn’t believe it, thought her eyes were dazzled by moonlight on snow. But the smell—she recognized the smell of death too well by now.

  “Oh, God, Adam.” With her free hand she covered her mouth, fought back the gorge that rose like a fountain in her throat. “Oh, sweet God.”

  Calves had been slaughtered. It was impossible at first to tell how many, but she knew she’d brought some of them into the world herself, only hours before. Now, instead of huddling against their mamas for warmth, they lay tossed into the snow, throats and bellies slit.

  Blood glittered on the ground, rich and red, in a hideous pool already crusting in the cold.

  It was weak, but she turned away from the carnage, lowered her rifle, and leaned on the fence until her insides settled into place.

  “Why? Why in God’s name would anyone do something like this?”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed her back, but he didn’t turn away. He counted eight infant calves, mutilated. “Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll deal with this.”

  “No, I can deal with it. I can.” She wiped a gloved hand over her mouth. “The ground’s too hard to bury them. We’ll have to burn them. We’ll have to get them out of here, away from the other calves and the females, and burn them.”

  “Nate and I can do that.” He struggled not to sigh at her set expression. “All right, we’ll all do it. But I want to get you back inside for a few minutes. Will, I have to check on the horses. If—”

  “Jesus.” Her own misery faded in fear for him, and his. “I didn’t even think. Let’s go. Hurry.”

  She didn’t head back to the house, but half ran toward the horse barn. The fear raced giddily in her head that she would fling open the door and be met again with that hideous smell of death.

  They hit the door together, wrenched it open. She was already prepared to grieve, prepared to rage. But all that met her was the scents of hay and horse and leather.

  Nonetheless, by tacit agreement they checked every stall, then the corral beyond. They left lights burning behind them.

  Adam moved to his house next, to look in on his dogs. He’d started locking them in at night right after the incident with the barn cat. They greeted him happily, tails thumping. He suspected, with a mixture of amusement and worry, that they would have greeted an armed madman with the same friendly enthusiasm.

  “We can call the main house from here,
ask Nate to meet us at the pole barn. You want Ham, too.”

  Willa bent down to scratch an eager Beans between the ears. “Everyone. I want everyone out there. I want them to see what we’re up against.” Her eyes hardened. “And I want to know what everyone’s been doing for the last couple hours.”

  T HE TASK WASN’T PHYSICALLY ARDUOUS, BUT IT WAS painful. Dragging butchered newborns into a pile on the snow-covered ground. There were plenty of hands to help, and there was no conversation.

  Once Willa caught Billy surreptitiously wiping a hand over his eyes. She didn’t hold the tears against him. She would have wept herself if it would have done any good.

  When it was done, she took the can of gasoline from Ham. “I’ll do it,” she said grimly. “It’s for me to do this.”

  “Will—” He cut off his own protest, then nodded before gesturing the men to move back.

  “How can she stand it?” Lily murmured, shivering with Tess beyond the corral fence. “How can she stand it?”

  “Because she has to.” Tess shuddered as Willa sloshed gas on the small heap. “We all have to,” she added, draping an arm over Lily’s shoulders. “Do you want to go inside?”

  More than anything in the world, Lily thought, but she shook her head fiercely. “No, we’ll stay till it’s finished. Until she’s finished.”

  Willa adjusted the bandanna she’d tied over her nose and mouth and took the box of matches from Ham. It took her three attempts to get a flame to hold in her cupped hand, and with the teeth of the wind snapping against her, she had to crouch low and close to start the fire.

  It burned high and fast, spewing heat. In only seconds, the odor of roasting meat was thick, and sickening. Smoke whipped out toward her, making her eyes water and her throat clog. She stepped back, one step, then two before she could hold her ground.

  “I’ll call Ben.” Nate shifted to her side.

  She kept her eyes on the flames. “For what?”

  “He’ll want to know. You’re not alone in this, Willa.”

  But she felt alone, and helpless. “All right. I appreciate your help, Nate.”